The Life and Death of the Forest
by MelTheAngryVegan
Summary: Jack walks a fine line between life and death; order and chaos. He is the prince of winter, but he is almost as easily the Dark Prince, and an important part of the forest. An exploration of Jack's place in nature, tied in with the film Epic. - "But, he could still dream of the day where he picked up a flower and it didn't die, didn't wilt, and the forest didn't scream."


**A/N:**_ This is a mostly RotG-centric oneshot mixed with Epic, and Jack's place in nature, and how, in being the personification of winter, is walking a fine line between chaos and harmony. This has nothing to do with The Leaf Men, so it's completely non-canon. But that should be obvious, because RotG and Epic have never been made into a movie together. Not canon. _

_Yeah I should stop writing at midnight. _

_If anyone is interested, I may write a sequel for this. Let me know what you think in a review~_

* * *

"Nod," Mary Katherine asked, "What do you guys do when it's winter?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes. "I mean… you won't die or anything, right?"

"Oh, no. Probably not." He chuckled, but adopted a serious look at the concern on Mary Katherine's face. "No. We all help to build this sanctuary we live, usually underground, until it's all over. The Queen sustains it. But some of us… aren't always so lucky."

She tapped her fingers thoughtfully against the desk, staring at the monitor. "My dad always told me that a Prince of Winter brought all this upon the forest. He's quite the legend, you know."

"Really? Tell me about him," she insisted.

Nod laughed and rubbed his chin. "Right… where to begin… Well, most of it is speculation. The only one who may've seen him before was Queen Tara… She said that he walks a damn fine line between order and chaos. After all, winter destroys life… but without it there can be no spring."

"When you say he's a prince… is he like," She paused and lowered her voice, "The Dark Prince?"

Nod's expression darkened. "In a matter of speaking. I only know he's been seen once or twice… Once before Queen Tara's time and once during her time. They say a single command form him could decay the whole forest if he so pleased…"

.~*~.

Jack Frost walked a fine line between life and death.

By all means, he was a living corpse, reanimated by the powers of the Man in the Moon. He brought the first winter chill, the first drop of dead leaves in autumn. He could decay plants with a single cool touch of his finger.

The first time, he longed to touch a flower. He reached out to hold the delicate beauty and it froze over, wilting and dying to his touch. He heard the angry voices of the forest cry out, carried by the wind. Frightened, he flew away. But the cries echoed with the breeze and he heard them for what seemed like days before they were finally gone…

Jack tried once again with a rose a while later. He heard the angry screams of the flowers, the grass, the trees. It was so bad that finally, he stopped hearing it when he blacked out.

He found out that he could not avoid it for long, however. Jack was the winter spirit, he brought death to the forest every time autumn rolled by. Sometimes he could tune out the voices. Other times, he couldn't ignore them and he screamed, screamed in his dreams, in his nightmares, but no one could hear him…

Jack awoke and there was a man clad in black standing above him.

He told him that he had potential. Jack, being gullible and naive and willing to do anything just because this person could see him, went along with whatever the man wanted him to do.

His bones and body stretched and he was spinning around in the sky and screaming and trying to get out of this nightmare he was in-

-and it stopped when Jack hit the ground.

Everything around him towered him. The trees were huge, the flowers, the grass, it was all so big…

Jack didn't have time to be awed before he was suddenly surrounded by little men that looked like leaves, about to drift away in the wind.

The man in black was suddenly beside him and Jack panicked - he didn't mean to, he just wanted to get him away and get away from him and get back to normal because why was he so small and everything was so out of control!

He blacked out again when cold fury raged through him and tore the forest apart.

Jack woke up in a daze, rubbing his eyes and forehead. He remembered what happened and promptly vomited. A sick sensation filled his stomach and he stared with hate at the frost spiraling form his fingertips. The forest screamed and cried and as he flew away on the wind, he cried along with it.

He did not see the man until many years later.

It was 1968, just a week away from Easter Sunday. Spring was beginning to return, but it was still a harsh winter for the forests. Jack had gotten better at blocking out the forest's sounds, but sometimes it was too much. This was one of those times. He blacked out, but not before seeing the black figure standing over him menacingly.

Jack awoke again to find himself tiny.

He was a little less scared than last time, but his panic increased when he found out where he was.

Tied to a rotting rock in a dark lair, Pitch stood above him with another strange-looking gray man. He was not like the men of leaves. A dead bat skin on his back for a cape, he radiated an aura of menace.

"Doesn't look like much to me," commented Mandrake gruffly. "He's just a kid."

"So is your son," he replied tersely, "but look how much faith you put in him. Besides…" Pitch stalked towards Jack with a smirk, who flinched and tried to back away as far as he could while still being tied to the rock.

"Jack is a rather special case," He gripped the boy's chin roughly and Jack gasped a little in surprise, "aren't you, Jack?"

He spat in Pitch's face, "Go to Hell!"

A harsh blow to the face made him recoil, seeing red.

"Why don't you make him a Fearling if you think he's so special?" Mandrake laughed and stirred the mixture of poison decay, clicking his tongue. "Don't be going soft on me, now."

"Hardly," replied Pitch. "I admit I like the idea of a Dark Prince… but I told you of his abilities and you asked me to bring him before making a final decision; so, here he is."

Mandrake clicked his tongue impatiently and quit stirring for a moment. He snapped his fingers and said, "Bring the leaf scum in."

Two Boggans dragged in a struggling Leaf Man and threw him to the ground in front of Jack. Pitch snapped his fingers and the bonds around Jack dissolved - before he could run, Pitch forced him to his knees with a well-placed kick to his stomach.

Jack grunted in pain. Pitch gripped his wrist tight and willed his hand forward to touch the man's head. Suddenly he was screaming and writhing. Jack started screaming, too, trying to get away and stop himself.

The frost spread much too quickly and the man froze and his entire body wilted in the cold, right before their eyes, before dropping dead, nothing but a freezing, decayed husk of what it used to be.

Jack didn't expect the tears to come but they did.

"Interesting," Mandrake murmured, eyebrow raised. "Very interesting."

"So?" Pitch raised an eyebrow. "What will we do?"

A smirk came onto his face. "If we want a Dark Prince, then I don't see anyone better."

Jack blacked out again. Something was shoved down his throat and it left him in a haze of cold and hot for days. He bleakly saw the face of a woman - flowers and plant life flourished at her simple touch and she touched upon his forehead. She did not decay. He felt his strength return and finally… he woke up.

When he did wake up, he was covered in snow. He didn't know how much time had passed. A newspaper fluttered in the wind - just his luck.

He jumped out of the snowy mound he was encased in and snatched it up, reading the headline.

The intense blizzard that swept across the nation has ruined the holiday spirits of Easter and plans of Americans everywhere. Accidents on icy roads, the death toll is starting to climb.

What…? Oh no no no it was Easter Sunday! He'd… been out that long? And all that happened… his fault...

"This can't…" he croaked out, voice hoarse from screaming. "No…"

This was not the first time Jack Frost had killed spring. This time he didn't hear the cries of the forest. They were completely silent.

That made it even worse.

And so Jack fled, fled to Antarctica and stayed there for the better part of… well, he didn't know. He stopped keeping track of time and just stayed there, throwing snowballs by himself and making ice sculptures and getting blessed, dreamless sleep.

When he finally went back, it was New Years Eve.

Time passed uneventfully for a while - avoiding the Guardians because he knew that Bunny probably had it out for him now because of what happened - and Jack was at peace. He tuned out the forest and rode on the wind.

But nothing could last.

There was that whole fiasco with Pitch and he was finally seen, but a part of him felt empty. And scared.

Why did what Pitch do seem so desperate? An attempt such as this made him wary… But he said nothing to the Guardians about it. Not about the tiny people, the voices in the forest, the Boggans… nothing.

Jack didn't mean to become so careless. It had been a few months since Pitch's defeat and he went out to visit Jamie. He told North he would be back at the workshop in a few days for the up coming meeting. He was overjoyed to go see Jamie. Jack whooped as he rode the wind and when his feet touched the ground, he didn't expect the hole to appear under them and swallow him up into darkness.

Jack was tired of this happening. But he supposed there was nothing he could to, hanging by his wrists above a boiling vat of decaying poison. He recognized the substance all too well and squirmed uncomfortably, trying to pull himself up on the shackles suspending him.

Pitch laughed and shook his head. "It's not that simple, Jack," he chided. "You didn't think I'd simply forget, did you? Even if you tried, there was no chance for me to forget…"

Jack scowled. "Let me go, Pitch. When I'm not back, the Guardians are going to find you and kick your ass."

"Such a filthy mouth," he said off-handedly with a look of discuss. He looked up at him, but Jack felt the sense he was looking past him- perhaps, through the cave walls and into the sky.

Pitch grinned. "It's a full moon, you know."

"Great. Maybe he can lend me some help," said Jack through gritted teeth.

"So naive," drawled Pitch. "The forest is rebirthing tonight… or rather, it would be. However, instead of the Pod giving birth to a Queen, it will give birth to a Dark Prince…" Jack slowly felt himself being lowered closer and closer to the poison and struggled, only to have himself restrained by nightmare sand so tightly he could hardly move or even talk. "Drop a hello to them all for me, will you? I'll be along soon enough…"

His feet were going in first. It felt like fire on his skin, burning him, killing him slowly. Jack slowly numbed out the pain, as he continued being lowered into the toxic pit, nightmare sand covering him. Jack heard a voice speaking to him and he was torn. One was calling him the Dark Prince and everything dark in him was pulling him towards that… but he also heard a soft voice. She called him the death of the forest, but the life as well.

Jack Frost was the balance.

Jack woke up again surrounded by the Guardians and just barely clothed, his clothes singed off, and patches of his skin burned almost severely. As they brought him back to the North Pole, swarming around him and hugging him tight, he thought of the new Queen of the forest. Maybe he could meet her under better circumstances than being forcefully shrunk. Maybe he could meet all of them.

It was a foolish wish for a destructive force such as him to come in contact with such life.

But, he could still dream of the day where he picked up a flower and it didn't die, didn't wilt, and the forest didn't scream.


End file.
